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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597286">When the Morning Comes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/listentothewordsyousay/pseuds/listentothewordsyousay'>listentothewordsyousay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Law &amp; Order</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:22:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>513</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/listentothewordsyousay/pseuds/listentothewordsyousay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>And what a lovely morning it is, Miss Kincaid.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Claire Kincaid/Jack McCoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>When the Morning Comes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As the low rumble of traffic began to mingle with the crash of shutters, the clanging of street bins and the shouts of delivery drivers, the light slid in through the window to announce that the new morning was here. The most eager residents of the building were already up and about; the slam of the heavy hallway door echoed as it was opened and closed. Claire Kincaid stretched gently, grateful that her day was not starting quite so early and also for the way in which it did promise to begin; Jack’s chin was scratching her shoulder, his chest was supporting her back and his arm was wrapped around her.</p><p>She was pleasantly planning their wake up call and drifting off again when she heard the heavy thumps. They echoed around the apartment as she bolted up, realising that they were meant for <em>her</em>.</p><p>Jack lifted his head groggily, his face a mask of displeasure. ‘What the hell?’</p><p>She looked at him hopelessly as the familiar voice barked out ‘NYPD, open up.’ ‘It’s the autopsy. I bet it’s finished.’</p><p>She marched to the door and wrenched it open enough to stick her head out. Lennie and Mike were standing there, fully suited and booted despite the ungodly hour. She glared at them, fully aware of how funny they would find their joke and her mood. ‘Good morning Miss Kincaid, and a lovely morning it is,’ said Lennie brightly. ‘We are delighted to inform you…’</p><p>‘Have I to come with you? Now?’ she interrupted, rather more crossly than she meant. She had realised that while she may have been technically dressed, she was in no way able to open the door one more inch, between her pyjama shorts, see through white tshirt and the supervising EADA in her bed.</p><p>‘Aren’t you letting us in, counseler?’ asked Mike, his face a study in innocence. ‘I hope you haven’t a man in there.’ He lifted his eyebrows sternly.</p><p>She couldn’t help it. Her cheeks blushed traitorously, allowing him to let out a bellow of laughter.</p><p>‘I’ll be five minutes,’ she flustered, closing the door as Mike threatened ‘to come in and have a word with him.’</p><p>The him in question was sitting up, looking tired. His hair stuck up at angles and the bags under his eyes were only slightly less pronounced than they had been at midnight, when he had turned up at her door. ‘Fume lady?’ ‘Yeah. I can’t believe it.’</p><p>She rummaged around furiously, picking up an odd assortment of clothes and rambling about them finding out.</p><p>‘Good thing you let me in and never left me to sleep on the mat,’ he said smoothly, pulling her gently towards him until she was sitting in his lap. ‘Stop worrying. No warrant for your bedroom and any of its occupants.’</p><p>Her mouth dimpled. ‘This was not how I wanted to wake you up,’ she sighed, stroking his shoulders. ‘There are definitely better ways,’ he agreed, his nose brushing hers.</p><p>From outside, Mike could be heard roaring ‘And he better be on the couch!’</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Why was Claire in such a foul mood during the early morning autopsy in 5.01?</p><p>Doesn't technically fit in on a second watch, but hey.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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